


The Best-Laid Plans

by cajungirlkye



Series: The Reichenbach Return [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angsty nightmare, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, More like Angst then loads of Fluff, Toothache-inducing sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajungirlkye/pseuds/cajungirlkye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick one-shot set 1 year after The Reichenbach Return & Brave, but it can easily be read as a stand-alone.</p><p>Sherlock plans to propose to John after their 1-year anniversary dinner, but his practice speech doesn't go quite as he hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best-Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, yet another Johnlock proposal on this forum, but this idea popped in my head and demanded to be written.
> 
> Title comes from Mice & Men by John Steinbeck.
> 
> Sherlock and the characters therein belong to the BBC. I'm just using them to fulfill my Johnlock fantasies. ;)

Sherlock Holmes stood on the edge of a precipice, staring coldly at the last of Jim Moriarty’s crime web, gun trained directly at the henchman’s heart.  He had saved this one for last, playing a cat-and-mouse game, striking fear into the heart of the would-have-been assassin. “So, Moran, looks like it’s the end of the road for you,” Sherlock sneered.  He pulled the trigger and Sebastian Moran morphed into the one person Sherlock could not live without. 

A patch of crimson bloomed over John Watson’s chest as Sherlock realized in horror what he had done.  “Oh God, no!” He ran over to the man he had loved for years, and had sworn to himself that he would protect with his life. He cradled John as John’s eyes became glassy, staring at Sherlock accusingly.  Sherlock cried out in anguish and searched for his gun.  He had just picked it up and tremblingly pressed it to his temple when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

“-Lock! Sherlock, darling, wake up. You were having a nightmare.”  Sherlock bolted upright _._   He clutched to John, kissing him with the pure need to know that he was real and alive, trembling with the memory of that glassy-eyed stare. _Not in the desert. Baker Street. Home.  John not dead. Here next to me._ He ran his hands over John’s shirtless chest, reassuring himself that it was just a bad dream.  John held him while his tremors subsided, murmuring, “It’s ok, Sherlock. I’m right here. You’re home. It was just a bad dream. There there, love.”

“John, I – “ Sherlock choked out.

“Shh,” his boyfriend soothed, “you don’t have to talk about it right now.”

Sherlock focused on John’s wet hair and half-dressed state, and then glanced at the clock.  The sun was just peeking out over the horizon.  “You’re up early,” he commented, finally calming down fully.

“I switched shifts with Sarah and am going into work early so I can be home in time to get ready for dinner tonight,” John replied.

Sherlock smiled sardonically. “What a great start to our one-year anniversary. You wake up to your boyfriend screaming in terror from a nightmare.”

John smiled at him warmly. “Our anniversary will be perfect, as long as we’re together.” He kissed Sherlock tenderly and said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Sherlock lay in bed for a few minutes after John had left, then went to take a shower.  After his shower, he dressed and texted Lestrade.

_No cases today. – SH_

As an afterthought, he added:

_–Better yet, wait until Monday if a case comes up. – SH_

He grinned at the reply.

_Do I even want to know? – GL_

_Anniversary dinner tonight with John. Hope to be busy all weekend celebrating something extra. – SH_

_Do you mean!?!?!?!? – GL_

_Talk to you Monday, Lestrade. – SH_

He went to their bedroom closet and pulled up the loose floorboard. He retrieved the small black box that had been hidden there.  Tonight was it. He had been waiting three hundred and sixty-three (and a third) days, and tonight was the night. He was going to ask John Watson to marry him.

Sherlock wanted tonight to be perfect.  He dressed and set about his errands. He went to pick up one of John’s anniversary gifts from the engravers, stopped by Angelo’s to make sure everything was according to Sherlock’s exact specifications, and then went to Tesco’s for some strawberries and champagne for the ‘other’ celebration he hoped to have later that night.

Sherlock put his purchases away after he got home, hiding John’s anniversary gift with the ring box.  As part of John’s anniversary gift, he tidied the flat.  He spent the remainder of the day organizing his files and putting away his equipment, and then had gotten ready for dinner and was washing the last teacup of the day when John’s arms wrapped around his middle and his voice rumbled from behind Sherlock, “mmm, I love it when you’re domestic.”

Sherlock grinned and turned around. “Don’t get used to it.” He languidly kissed the love of his life hello. “How was your day?”

“Way too long,” John replied. “On the plus side, I didn’t get thrown up on today. And then I got home and thought I had either walked into the wrong flat or had died and gone to heaven.” He laughed and kissed Sherlock again. “I’m going shower and get ready.”

While John was in the shower Sherlock retrieved both of John’s anniversary gifts and put them in his coat pockets.

After John had gotten dressed they hailed a taxi to Angelo’s.  It was a crisp April evening so it was still a bit too chilly to walk.  Dinner went according to plan, although Sherlock was a bit distracted with the looming proposal.

He had thought about proposing to John during dinner, but ultimately had decided that he would wait until they had gotten home so they could do some post-engagement, err, snuggling.  He had always rolled his eyes at the couples who had the big public engagements. Then again, he always rejected relationships in general.  Still, this was between him and John.  He hadn’t even mentioned his planned proposal to anyone else until Lestrade’s text earlier in the day.

During dessert Sherlock gave John his gifts. The first was a caduceus with their initials engraved on the back, resting on a simple silver chain. “So you can always keep your loves close to your heart,” Sherlock explained. “Oh, Sherlock, it’s beautiful,” John breathed.

His face lit up when he opened his second gift. Inside the box was a new mobile.  “I knew you wouldn’t let me buy it for you just because,” Sherlock said. “So I waited to get it for you.  Now you don’t have to keep swearing at your old model when calls keep getting dropped and it randomly dies on you,” Sherlock said with a grin.

“It’s absolutely brilliant, Sherlock. Thank you.”  He kissed Sherlock then handed him a simply wrapped package.  Sherlock opened it to find a signed first edition of a true-crime anthology that John had spotted Sherlock eyeing in a rare-book shop the previous week while pretending to be bored while John shopped.

Sherlock smiled warmly. “John, I love it.” 

*************************************************************************************

Once they got home, John stopped by Mrs. Hudson’s to get the champagne and strawberries while Sherlock went on upstairs. Sherlock had asked Mrs. Hudson to hold the champagne and strawberries in her refrigerator because theirs were full since Sherlock had stowed his experiments (all labeled for once) in theirs, and even Sherlock didn’t trust their fridge with fresh fruit, and also he had asked Mrs. Hudson to keep John busy for a few minutes when he came for the food.

He went into their bedroom and had just grabbed the ring box when suddenly his mobile chimed with a text message.

_Decided how you’re going to ask? – MH_

Sherlock scowled. Mycroft must’ve seen him with the ring out earlier from the hidden camera in their sitting room.

_Piss off, Mycroft. – SH_

_I was merely asking if you’d practiced a speech.  You’ll only get engaged once in your life, you know.  I do want the best for you, Sherlock, and I truly believe that Dr. Watson is it. – MH_

Sherlock paused. MYCROFT was showing sentiment? He started a snarky reply, but then thought better of it. Instead he replied, _Thank you. – SH_

_You are most welcome, brother. I wish you and John the utmost happiness.  – MH_

Sherlock could hear Mrs. Hudson chattering away to John about her bridge group. Sherlock smiled. His John really was too kind. He would be a while.

As much as he hated to admit it, Mycroft did have a point. Sherlock kept turning the ring box over and over in his hands as he thought about what to say. 

 _So… want to get married?_ No…

 _I’ve decided to divorce my work and marry you instead!_ Definitely not.

Sherlock stared at the wall. His mobile chimed with another text.

_Say what’s in your heart. – MH_

Sherlock smirked. _Sage advice. – SH_

 “John, the day I met you my life changed in ways I never thought it would. In these past few years you have gone from my flatmate and blogger to my best friend and lover.  I would die for you. I DID die for you, and I would do it over and over again if it meant to keep you safe.

I never wish to be apart from you another day as long as I live.” He sighed. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Sherlock,” John’s voice said from behind him, and Sherlock whirled around, hiding his hands behind his back. He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized that both Mrs. Hudson had stopped talking and that he had been speaking out loud.

John stood learning against the doorway of their bedroom, arms crossed and a wicked glint in his eye.  He was grinning like the Cheshire cat and looking at Sherlock like he was the cream.

“Erm…” Sherlock stammered. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” John said vaguely. 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.  John walked slowly towards Sherlock and asked hopefully, “did you mean it?”

“I didn’t want to do it like this,” Sherlock began, “but since you snuck up on me and ruined the surprise…” He looked at John both exasperatedly and lovingly all at the same time.

“I meant every word and I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I want to solve crimes together and then retire to the countryside and I’ll raise bees and you can blog about my bee research. I know I always said that marriage is called an institution for a reason and that people would have to be insane in order to enter into such, but there’s no one I’d rather be insane with for the rest of my life than you.”

Then Sherlock opened the ring box and got down on one knee. “John Hamish Watson, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?”

“Oh, God, yes,” John said, choking up. “But only on one condition – we join our names together.”

Sherlock grinned, stood up, and gave John a long kiss. He pulled the ring out of the box. On the inside of the plain titanium band was “JW-H + SW-H in aeternum”. The engraver had owed him a favor and so gave him a good discount when he brought in the ring and John’s anniversary gift to be engraved.

“I thought you’d request that. So is that a yes, then?” “Of course, you daft git,” John laughed, and Sherlock slipped the ring onto John’s finger.

The champagne and strawberries were forgotten until much later.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I always picture Sherlock actually proposing to John (since John thinks that Sherlock is married to his work) and the idea of John interrupting his practice proposal speech popped into my head.
> 
> (If anyone wants to create a sexier version of the ending, go right ahead!)


End file.
